


Reverse Phoenix

by moonwalkingdead



Category: Walking Dead, Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-29
Updated: 2014-10-12
Packaged: 2018-02-10 22:18:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2042319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonwalkingdead/pseuds/moonwalkingdead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A follow up to the oneshot 'It's The Little Things'. Six years since the Apocalypse began and five after he lost her, he really thought she was dead, and so did everyone else. </p><p>But Beth Greene is alive. </p><p>Now twenty three years old, she leads a community of her own and doesn't want her prison family back. Not her sister Maggie, not even Li'l Asskicker, and most especially not Daryl Dixon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a years after follow up to the oneshot _It's The Little Things._ I'll be putting my other fics on hold until this is finished because this idea wouldn't stop bugging the hell out of me or let me write anything else. It begins with a diary entry type of introduction and I can't decide if he's writing it down or talking to her aloud/in his head (the reason why it's written in 'Daryl redneck speak'), so it's up to you. Either way works, I think. 
> 
> And don't kill me for including someone who looks like Daryl, and who goes by the name Norm. Haha.

Thou shalt raise up this flesh of mine, which has suffered all these things. - St. Clement, Letter to the Corinthians

..

_Hey. 'S been a while. Hadn't the time, everyone's been busy. Had lots'a shit to do the past few months 'cause we're finally expandin', and it's about damn time ya know? Though Rick's just bein' cautious, I get that, an' so's the rest of the Council. See, this group's grown, about four times larger than we were at the prison. That's a lot of people to be responsible for, which means loads of dead bodies if we fuck things up._

_We're thinkin' of takin' the land south, across the river. No one's claimed it yet as far as we've seen, an' there ain't no Walkers either, not in weeks. If we get this done by next month (and we wanna), the community's gonna be damn huge, probably twice the size of ya Daddy's farm. It still ain't like the prison, but we gotta take what's bein' given to us, make the most out of it right? I think that's what ya gonna say 'bout things anyway, always the positive one with ya rainbows an' ponies an' shit._

_But enough about that. I went back last week, cleaned the funeral home a bit. Porch 's finally fallin' apart though, fixed it some when I nearly broke my neck after trippin' on a loose floor board. Ya shoulda seen Michonne when I fell, laughed her ass off like a hyena, told me I was gettin' old. An' I think she's right, been aching in parts that shouldn't._

_I'm gonna spend a couple'a nights there again, same old. Just gotta finish some Council shit back at community main, get it over an' done with 'fore I leave. Rick talked to me this morning, told me the same thing he tells me on this day every damn year._

_That I need to let go, move on an' forgive myself. But ya know what? I can't. I won't. Just... not after lettin' 'em take ya away. 'Cause how can I? I was supposed to keep ya safe, was the least I could do after what ya done for me..._

_An' I still miss ya girl, every damn day that ya ain't here. I don' think I'll stop missin' ya for a while, maybe even at all. Got no fuckin' clue why, but I've stopped askin' a long time ago. 'S useless wonderin' anyway, woulda been easier to figure out if ya was around._

_But ya ain't._

_Anyway I gotta run, do shit. Say hi to everyone up there for me. While ya at it, do me a favor an' give Merle a good asskickin' too. 'S strange, but I actually miss the dumbass._

_Oh, an' 'm bein' good, don' ya worry. Ya taught me how._

_I'll talk to ya later Beth._

..

When he steps out of the wooden shack their community considers the town hall and, after making sure all his tasks are done for the day, the first thing Daryl Dixon spots when he hears his name being called is a worn out Sheriff's hat being waved at him.

"Daryl! Hey Daryl, wait up!"

He stops and sighs in resignation, recognizing both the hat and its owner's voice immediately. He really ought to be going now if he wants to get to the funeral home early, but he knows this could also be important. 

So he waits, if a little impatiently, absently resting a hand on the handle of the hunting knife on his hip as eighteen-year-old Carl Grimes heads towards him.

Daryl watches the boy as he weaves in, out, and around clusters of townspeople, brilliant blue eyes standing out under his dark bangs even at a distance. Even though he looks a lot like Lori, he's a spitting image of Rick in his every action; nodding and smiling politely at everybody the same way his old man does. 

And when he stops to help a senior citizen carry her laundry basket with a signal at him to hang on, he has to smirk and roll his eyes because five years in this shitty world, and some things just never change.

Like this hero complex the Grimes father and son duo seem to have in common.

"Ain't got all damn day boy," he mutters, crossing his arms over his chest and following the boy's progress with his eyes. The old woman, Mrs. Gonzales, leads Carl at the back of one of the houses, and two minutes later, he reappears with an apple in tow. The boy fortunately makes it where he's standing without helping anyone else, tossing the fruit he's been given from one hand to the other, and Daryl's just about to say something teasing when he notices the look on the teenager's face.

He tenses and frowns, tilting his head up slightly to be able to meet Carl's gaze. Yes, the boy's _that_ tall now. "What is it?" he asks, not liking the worried expression that the other is wearing.

"I have news." The boy says in a low voice as he stops before Daryl, glancing around them to check if anyone's listening. But everyone is too absorbed with their own tasks to pay them any mind.

He steps closer. "What news?" he asks in a hiss, and Carl produces a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket, unfolding a hastily drawn map. He hands it over to Daryl who smooths it out on his palms. Anxiously watching the boy as he scans it, he waits until Carl is pointing at an area miles away from the river and further south, just before a long stretch that is the edge of the forest. A specific spot outside the treeline is where Carl is repeatedly tapping his finger on. 

"We found traces of people here, maybe three or four days old. It looks like a big group." He then traces a line eastward, stopping at an area they've marked as a grove. "We followed the tracks until here. This one's fresher, about a day old, and from this place the tracks start branching out everywhere." Carl finally glances up at him. "It's like they're scoping the area out."

Daryl eyes the two locations on the piece of paper before him warily, before looking up with a furrow on his brow. "Ya sure?" He asks, earning himself an eyeroll.

"Of course I'm sure." Carl snaps, glancing around again before dropping his voice even lower than it already is. "I don't want them near the town if they don't need to be Daryl. One set of tracks, they lead too close to the walls."

The older man brings his thumb to his lips and begins chewing on the skin around his fingernail, a mannerism he can never break. A big group hovering near the community... the last time they had to worry about other people was a long time ago, more a year now. 

That hadn't been pretty.

He eventually scrubs a hand over his face and sighs deeply, realizing what Carl's trying to do by telling him this. "So maybe I should stay..." He starts saying, but even before he can finish, the boy is suddenly shaking his head and cutting him off midsentence. 

"No, no!"

Daryl starts at being so rudely interrupted, narrowing his eyes in confusion while Carl goes on. "I'm telling you this because I want to go back there myself, bring along maybe two or three people. I'm asking for your permission, not making you stay!"

And he doesn't want to admit it, but Daryl almost sighs aloud in relief. For a minute there, he really thought Carl's subtly trying to get him to stop this yearly tradition that he's got, get him to stay back, just like his Dad.

Because he has never broken his annual ritual at the funeral home, _ever_. Four years in a row and this is the fifth, of him torturing himself by remembering the days leading to the night he lost Beth.

Not even Maggie can stop him from going back, celebrating some kind of death anniversary but without a grave to visit or even a body to mourn over. He just has memories, lots of them.

Beautiful ones.

This is a big deal though, and different. Unlike the last four years, he's never left town with the threat of some group about to discover them - if they haven't already. 

But then again, they have Carl now and the boy has gotten good at these kinds of things, very capable. This isn't really the first time he's leaving him in charge while he's away either, so...

Daryl still looks at Carl hesitantly though. "Ya sure ya ain't gonna need me with ya?" He asks, receiving another eyeroll, and Carl looks slightly offended as he answers. 

"Seriously, you're the one who taught me how to track _and_ assigned me as your second-in-command," he replies with a glare. "Don't you think I'll do just fine?"

He considers this for a moment before finally shrugging. "Okay kid, ya got a point. Just feels like I should be there too."

Carl reaches out and places a comforting hand on his arm. He doesn't flinch away from it like he would have years ago, instead welcomes the touch from a member of his family.

Show of support. _He remembers._

"I know today's important so I won't tell you not to go like Dad does," the boy tells him, taking the hand away with a pat. "And I wanna do this so you won't have to, so you can go without thinking you've left us to deal with a problem on our own."

The warmth that spreads across Daryl's chest at those words feels amazing, and he reaches out to grasp Carl's arm in a grateful squeeze. It means a lot to him, that someone understands. Because after Beth's disappearance, there's been even fewer people who do.

"Thanks Carl." He rasps, looking at the half-man standing in front of him right in the eye. "Just... thanks." He gets a grin and an elbow to the ribs in return as Carl takes a big, juicy bite out of his apple. 

"No problem. Now go, I got this."

Daryl nods, and with a final round of murmured thanks, he turns around to head back to his house, gather his things and prepare to leave.

..

The footsteps behind him is a loud and ongoing stomping noise that only slightly muffles the accompanying sound of sniffing. He ignores it - or at least tries to - as he picks up his crossbow after checking that he has everything he needs in his backpack.

He then turns towards his little companion who's been following him around the house for the last fifteen minutes, trying his hardest to keep a straight face. It's hard though, with a five-year-old Judith attempting to look as pathetic as possible to be able to get what she wants from him.

And yes, _on purpose._

"So? Ya gonna mope all day or are ya gonna walk me to the gates?" He asks the little girl, who sniffs several times in reply before eventually using words. 

"Are you sure I can't-" it's a question he's familiar with by now because she's been asking it all week. He still waits for her to finish though. "C-can't go?"

He shakes his head firmly. "I done told ya girl. I ain't takin' ya with me." And Daryl winces when Judith's shoulders start shaking, sobs building at the back of her throat. 

"But you can't go alone! Daddy says no one goes outside by theirselves-"

"Themselves," Daryl automatically corrects her, but she ignores his comment and ploughs on. "-and what if there're Crawlers and you don't see them and they bite you and... and you die and..." she's a sobbing mess now, nose and cheeks red and with a waterfall of tears streaming down her face. 

"And you can't leave me Darly!"

Daryl heaves a sigh as Judith continues crying, unsure whether he's exasperated or amused. They'd had this conversation at least twice a day this week, ever since Carl accidentally let slip that he'd be gone for two nights and all by himself.

But the crying fit had never been _this_ bad.

"Jesus kid, we talked 'bout this last night an' you was already okay with it..." He mutters, opening his arms out to the girl. "C'mere an' stop cryin'. Ya ain't nicknamed asskicker for nothin'."

Judith wastes no time in launching herself into his embrace, chubby arms circling his neck as he lifts her from the ground. "B-but Darly, you can't go without me!" She has her face buried on his shoulder, soaking it with tears and snot. "I'm t-the shortest so I c-can help see Crawlers, I'm really good!"

He chuckles as he tries to balance his crossbow, his backpack, and Judith with just two hands, now headed out. "Ya ain't just good, ya perfect girl," He murmurs with a nuzzle to her cheek. "But ya still ain't goin', not until ya old enough."

She pulls away from him slightly, raising a hand between them and at his face. "But I'm alre-ready five." she asks, sobbing halted at the moment although hiccups have taken over. "Ai-ain't that old 'nough?"

He opens his mouth to answer, stepping out of the front door and kicking it shut behind him, when someone beats him to talking. 

" _Isn't,_ " Rick steps forward with both hands on his hips, glaring slightly at Daryl where he's standing at the bottom of the porch steps before looking pointedly at his daughter. "You say _isn't_ , not ain't Judith Grimes."

The turns in Daryl's arms and stares at her Dad with questioning eyes. "But Darly uses it all the time," she counters, throwing her arms around her old man and allowing Rick to carry her.

"Well _Darly_ here," he says, emphasizing Judith's accidental nickname for him, which at first was just a pronunciation problem until the name just stuck, starting their short trek for the East gate. "He learned to speak properly before he decided to speak the way he does."

Rick glances at him with the evil eye, adjusting his hold on his little girl. " _Isn't_ that right, _Darly_?"

Daryl rolls his eyes but nods at Judith when she turns to him for confirmation, reaching out and tousling her hair. "Yeah sweetheart, listen to ya Daddy 'cause he's right."

The girl nods solemnly. "Okay." she tightens the hold she has on her Dad, still staring at Daryl but quieting down as if on the verge of falling asleep, her cheek on Rick's shoulder. With all the crying she's done the entire time he was getting ready, he's unsurprised.

Rick takes advantage of his daughter's sudden silence by conversation - not idle because it's not the ex-Deputy's style. They do this every year, so Daryl is actually expecting it. 

"Carl told me about the tracks." Rick begins, keeping his gaze ahead, on the road they're on, cracked and slightly grassy asphalt. "After talking to the Council and doubling the number of people on watch duty, he headed back out with a team."

Daryl adjusts the strap of his crossbow on his shoulder, nodding slightly. "Yeah, we talked when he got back. He's in charge anyway, it's his call." He glances at Rick and at Judith who is already asleep before turning away again. "I know what ya gonna say Rick, but I'm goin'."

Rick sighs and raises a hand up as if in defeat. "I've said my bit this morning, I don't think I need to say it again. Just..." He stops walking and Daryl does the same, a few feet away from their destination. They look at each other for a while before Rick continues. "Be careful out there okay?"

Daryl nods. "Always am."

Rick nods back and reaches for something inside the beltbag he's wearing around his waist, before handing it to him. "Here, something for the road."

Daryl rolls the apple he's been given around his hand before taking a bite as they continue walking. "Lemme guess," he smirks up at Rick. "This from Mrs. Gonzales?"

"The one and only," Rick replies as they finally approach the gates. "She was waiting outside the Council room for Carl with a basket full of it, thanked him for helping her earlier."

He narrows his eyes at the former cop, still chewing. "So if there was a basket of it, why am I gettin' only one?" he asks playfully, making Rick grin. 

"Because you're leaving." and Daryl rolls his eyes as he heaves his backpack higher on his shoulders, shaking his head. "Whatever, still gonna go."

The gates are opened and Rick walks him to it. Before walking out, Daryl reaches for and cups Judith's cheek gently. "Tell her she's gonna be the first one I find when I get back."

"Make sure you remember that because she definitely will when I tell her." Rick warns with a knowing smile. 

He smirks again. "I will." He then grasps Rick's forearm firmly, receiving a clap on the shoulder. "Ya know where to find me if ya need me." 

Daryl then pulls away at Rick's affirmative and steps out of the gates without a backward glance, still munching on his apple. He just waves a hand behind him as goodbye, readying himself for a couple of days by himself.

Little does he know that he'll have to go home much sooner than that.

..

The humming is the first clue, distant at first although getting closer. He moves branches away slowly, peering between leaves and looking at a cluster of apple trees a good distance from his position.

It's her, carrying an empty basket and picking up fallen apples that aren't bruised, that are still fine to eat. He jumps off the tree he's been hiding in after making sure no one else is there but her and walks near enough to be able to hold a conversation without shouting.

"Ma'am," He greets the old woman. He keeps himself away from the edge of the treeline where she's at, lest he be seen by the watchers high up on the wall facing them.

She keeps up her façade, apple picking, answering without looking. "Boy just left with a group my dear, they saw the tracks." She doesn't glance his way, not even once. "There are more people on the walls though, they're very wary."

He chuckles at that. "Well they shouldn't be. We're just protecting our own." He glances behind him and at the treetops, at something only he can see. "They're getting too close so they need a warning."

She moves, collecting more fruit from under a second apple tree, and he moves with her. "They don't know anyone's in the forest. They'll be more reluctant to expand if they did."

He shrugs. "Now they do, don't they?"

She shakes her head slightly and actually gives him a look - just a quick glance, before she's returning to her task. "They think you're sniffing around, from what I've heard during the meeting. Like you're new in the area and marking the territory."

He laughs at this. "Really, eavesdropping?" he asks, amused as she smirks slightly before continuing. "And we were here way before them."

She loses all amusement at that and shakes her head with a sigh, making a big show of looking at the apples still on the tree that are too high up for her to reach. She doesn't really need more, with her basket full, but it gives her an excuse to stay.

"They don't know that either because your young lady refused to make our community known the first time we discovered them." She glances at him again, this time sternly. "If you want to stop their expansion, you have to let them know the area's been claimed a long time ago. You'll have to talk to them."

All he can do is nod as he begins retreating into the forest and back to his tree, knowing when a conversation's done. "I'll talk to her Mrs. Gonzales, but you know what she always says."

She too, turns around and walks away, heading back the way she came, but not without a reply. "Five years is a long time, Norm. Ask her to go back to the funeral home," she glances behind her and where he has frozen in place, eyes wide.

He receives an amused look. "Yes, I know about _him_. There's a reason you chose me to get information for you my boy. Tell her she's not the only one who hasn't forgotten."

Norm watches Mrs. Gonzales go with a shake of his head, before sighing deeply and climbing back up the tree. A hand reaches out to help him onto a wide branch, and he accepts it although lets go quickly as soon as he's settled. She doesn't like to be touched too long even if she initiates it, and everyone knows this.

"You heard?" He asks, turning to her with an eyebrow raised. She isn't looking at him, has her eyes focused on the walls of the community that has never known that theirs existed, not since they settled there almost three years ago. 

When she finally looks at him, her blue eyes are a dulled cerulean. "You think she's right, don't you?"

He turns away from her and busies himself with checking how many bullets he has left on his gun's extra clip. "You know I have your back, regardless of what I think."

She hasn't turned away, and she reaches out to grasp his chin and turn his head so he has to look back at her. "But do you think she's right?" she asks, more insistently this time.

He stares at those dead eyes for a while before nodding. "Yeah. It's about time they know they don't own the place, and they're only going to know if we let them."

She takes her hand back and tilts her head slightly, staring at him intently. "So what do we do? We march up to the gates, ask for their Council?"

He shrugs. "Just you and me, yeah. We'll leave the others hidden." Together they glance at the surrounding treetops where most of their people are also in. "You knew these people, you'll know how to talk to them."

A bitter smile curls her lips, and her eyes find the walls again. "They'll ask me to stay, you know this, don't you?" 

He leans forward and very hesitantly touches her knee, making her flinch. He withdraws immediately. "And are you going to?"

She doesn't look at him when she answers, instead focuses on a Crawler dragging itself on the ground just beneath their hide out. "No. My place is with you now, with our people."

He smiles sadly at her words, but it's gone by the time she's turned back to him. "You know I'll be there every step of the way, right Beth? When you see them again?"

She nods and begins climbing down the tree. "I know Norm. Let's set up camp, no fire. I'll think about it."

He follows without a word, getting his small flashlight out and turning it on and off in rapid fire. There are answering flickers from the trees all around them, before it stops and other people begin their descent on the ground too. The watchers on the walls, they just admire the display, thinking of fireflies. 

And Norm lets her take his hand as they lead their people deeper into the woods for the night where they don't sleep. Instead, she distracts herself from the decisions she has to make with his body all over hers, a hunger for flesh that doesn't result in blood, but in pleasure.

Miles away, Daryl Dixon runs a hand on a piano that Beth Greene once played, remembering a girl he thinks is dead.

But who's not.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT: A reminder that we will deal with sex and the subject of rape beginning this chapter, and will continue to do so from now on. Of course, the labels explicit and rape non-con are dead give aways too, but still. A second warning has never harmed anyone. In short: you have been _repeatedly_ warned.

Four years ago...

_Unstable is a mild word when it comes to describing her, what she has become. He's pretty sure she wasn't what she is right now: a broken, traumatized girl who attacks when cornered, who flinches when anyone's too near, who snaps at his every attempt at giving some kind of comfort._

_But Norm understands - he'd saved her after all, witnessed first hand the nightmare she went through._

_But he has never seen her this flat, like even the anger she has for everything has been drained completely out of her. Suddenly she's just blank, emotionless._

_And it's a scary thing to behold._

_"Beth?" He calls out warily when they have stood where she stopped for over ten minutes and she still hasn't said a thing. At the sound of his voice, she turns her head slightly in acknowledgedment, before facing the piece of wall that caught her attention again._

_She nods at the hastily scrawled message upon it, written in now dried blood. "I know who wrote this." She says, stepping closer and running a hand on the dark, crimson letters._

Glenn Go to Terminus Maggie

_When she doesn't continue, something in Norm's gut twists painfully but he asks. He has to or she won't say anything, and they can't just stand and stare all day._

_"Who?"_

_She doesn't face him when she answers, her voice eerily hollow. And something in him breaks for her when she finds her voice again to reply._

_"My sister."_

_Without another word, she turns around and walks away, back where they came from, and they never talk about heading for Terminus again._

...

"Norm..." Beth runs her fingers on his chest hard, nails leaving harsh lines on his heated, sweaty skin. "More, give me more." She commands, not begs. Panting with exertion, he pounds into her hard just the way she likes, and just as asked.

One of her hands reach out to tug at strands of his hair, forcing his head down so she can kiss him fervently. Her hips urge him on, meeting his frantically, and when he shifts and deepens his thrusts, it makes her pull away from his mouth with a sharp cry.

She encourages him with half-whispered words. " _Yes, yes..._ faster!" He complies as always, just as lost in pleasure as she is and groaning at the feel of her pussy tightening around him.

All the while though, he's still mindful of what he shouldn't do because Beth, regardless of all the fucking they've been doing all these years, is still as damaged as she was the first time they attempted this. There's really no way of changing that, no matter the fixing she's tried on herself.

So he makes sure not to set her off. He doesn't restrain her in any way, or try to limit her movements. He doesn't control positions either, waits for her to tell him how she wants it given to her. But most of all, he leaves her to initiate everything. 

From start to finish, it's Beth who calls the shots. 

She grips his arms and squeezes, getting his attention. Breathless and sweaty, she's a sight, and Norm's cock throbs painfully inside her as he forces himself to slow down and listen to what she's about to say.

Her eyes are wild and dark, _alive_ \- the only time they ever are. For a victim of sexual abuse, she looks strangely at ease right there, underneath him, but it actually took them the last four years since the first time to get to _this_ , for Beth to even allow something as simple as missionary.

Prior, it was always her on top and riding him so she knows that no one else is in control but her.

But the past few months have been different, almost as if she's trusting him more. He doesn't fool himself into believing she's getting better though; she isn't, he sees it in her eyes, the way they fade back to lifeless pewter once the sex is over.

Her request at the moment puts his thoughts in a standstill.

"Take me from behind." She gasps out. He stares down at her in surprise and can't help but ask if she's sure. She only nods and he pulls out of her, watching as she turns around to bring herself on her hands and knees, her face buried between her arms on the surface of their shared sleeping bag.

All the sex has made the air inside their tent stifling, but it seemed to get hotter at the sight of her displayed to him like she is now. His skin feels like it's on fire, and he can't wait to be inside her again.

But he waits. 

"Hard and fast Norm," she finally whispers, looking behind her to meet his guarded gaze. She reaches for one of his hands and settles it upon her hips, the go signal he's been waiting for. "Make me forget."

He strokes himself slowly with a nod to her, before he's pushing himself inside again, beginning a merciless pounding that has her gripping whatever she can get her hands on.

The force of their fucking makes her cry out with every inward stroke, a relentless and ongoing noise that makes it difficult for him to not come first. But he manages, gritting his teeth, leaning forward so that his chest is touching her back to be able to reach between her legs.

And when his thumb finds her clit, she's done. 

She throws her head back and comes, and he focuses on riding her orgasm with her without coming himself. It's not impossible since this isn't the first time, and he has no choice. They've run out of condoms a long time ago, and unless they want kids, he has to hold out.

When her muscles have stopped rippling around him and she sags in a heap of useless limbs, Norm pulls out of Beth and comes all over her back with a muffled groan, making a hot, white mess on her crisscross of scars. 

He falls on the edge of the sleeping bag beside her, completely spent, and they don't speak for a long while as Norm grabs his shirt to wipe traces of him from her skin. They wait for their breaths and their heartbeats to go back to normal before he finally speaks.

"I've decided," she begins, and he simply waits for her to continue. "That yes, we should talk to them." She shifts, turning around to face him. 

He takes her expression in, before he reaches out to touch her. She lets him with just a minor flinch, and it's a small victory. "Hmm." Is all he says in reply, his index finger tracing her cheekbone. 

"So? Aren't you going to say anything else?" She asks, moving a little closer until they're almost nose to nose. He shakes his head and smiles slightly. 

"Nothing to say that I haven't said before. Like I told you," he leans forward and plants a kiss on her lips, chaste and close-lipped, _safe_. "I have your back, regardless of what I think."

She chases his lips when he pulls away, her tongue tracing his bottom lip over and over as if in memorization. And then his own tongue darts out to meet hers, refueling the fire in her that was woken up by the unwelcome touch of men she doesn't know.

It took him months to convince her that lust is normal, that she's not _sick_ like she thinks she is, still wanting to be touched the way _they_ touched her after what she went through.

She still feels that way on bad days, but it looks like today's not one of those days.

Beth climbs on top of Norm, mouth and tongue engaged in a messy kiss with his as she coaxes both their bodies back to life, always the one in charge. 

"Again, let's go again," she pants beside his ear, her breath hot and heavy as Norm pushes his hardened cock upward and inside her. She's still very wet that he slides in easy, and he barely has time to re-acquaint himself with her tightness before she's moving. He groans as she slams herself down, sheating him completely, before rolling her hips in a slow, circular motion then lifting herself up to repeat the entire process all over again.

"Beth..." he sits up slightly so that she's seated on his lap, and grasps her by the ass, helping her out, giving her movements more speed.

She's an incoherent mess, blonde hair all over her face, eyes a fevered blue. "Yes, _yes_..."

And finally, she shudders her second release with a painful bite to his shoulder, and again it takes all of Norm's self control not to come inside her. He makes another mess seconds later, this time between them, and after he's cleaned them up, Beth doesn't let Norm hold her in repose.

He doesn't offer either, and they fall asleep with an arm's length of distance between them.

"Tomorrow at dawn," 

Beth's last words. Norm should feel accomplished that she has at long last agreed to talk to the previous members of her group, for the sake of their community, after months of asking her to reconsider.

But all he gets is a sinking feeling in his stomach, and he's not quite sure why.

...

The room isn't the way they've abruptly left it years ago, because he's found more use for the chairs there and the coffin had to go eventually. All that remains is the piano that he moved to the middle of the room, clumps of melted wax from the candles he's used over the years, and open space. 

For a long while, he stands by the entrance and remembers the past, _that_ moment with her back turned, singing in the candelight during the end of the world. 

And later on that piece of comfort that still makes it difficult to breathe everytime he recalls it; of her soothing him with touches that are _not just._

_You're not here for anybody's convenience but yours, Daryl._

"Hey Beth," he says aloud to an empty room. He walks over and runs a hand on the polished wood of the only instrument there as he dumps his things on the floor, before seating himself on the piano bench with a wistful smile. "Been waitin' all damn year to show ya what I learned so I'm gonna save readyin' my overnight things for later."

He cracks his knuckles, like he's about to get into a fist fight, before looking up at the ceiling and keeping up with a one-sided conversation. "Ya listenin' up there? Ya better 'cause I'm gon'be the first Dixon to do this shit. Better be damn proud'a me Greene."

And then his fingers, calloused by years of manual labor, of killing animals for food and then people when the Apocalypse happened, starts to play.

It's not a very complicated piece according to their community's resident music teacher, but for someone who has never attempted to play before, learning it had been hell. He makes a few mistakes that causes him to curse under his breath, even repeat few parts, but when he finishes _The Entertainer,_ Daryl nods in satisfaction. 

He smirks upwards. "There. Bet ya didn't expect that." He says. He is answered by complete silence so thick that he wants to choke on it, and Daryl loses the amused curl of his lips with a sigh.

"Beth..." he whispers, throat so tight that it's painful to speak. He takes a deep breath, trying to rid himself of the growing ache in his chest. But it doesn't go away, it never has. Never will. 

"Ya was the one who changed my mind."

In her tent that smells of sweat and sex, Beth stirs but doesn't wake.


	3. Chapter 3

Carl is dead on his feet by the time the gates on the Southern wall come into view: a stretch of lumpy, hardened clay and various semi-flat metal objects put together to form a barrier that's a little over ten feet tall. 

"Finally," Glenn's relief at the sight is obvious in his voice, and Carl tries not to let it get on his nerves. Because what's wrong about being glad they're home? All of them are tired, had been up all night guarding the newly set perimeter after it became too dark for tracking.

But for absolutely nothing, and that's what has Carl on the verge of snapping at everything, that they're so exhausted right now without even knowing what the hell for. Those tracks led them in circles all day yesterday like some kind of joke, one that isn't funny. 

And it has him on edge, because he knows that he's either missing something, or someone is very deliberately playing a tracking prank to fuck around with their town, _with him._

_Huh, tracking prank,_ he thinks to himself in part amusement, part annoyance. _Haven't heard that one before._

But that's how the entire thing appears to Carl if he's going to be honest with himself, and if he's learned anything useful from being Daryl's student, it's to always trust his gut.

And his gut is telling him that something's not right. 

Carl hates to admit it now, but he thinks the redneck had been right about being needed with them all along. But he's not selfish; all the man has ever done is be there for their community 363 days a year. He more than deserves the two days he gets for himself, and he can't ask him _not_ to take those 'days off'.

Doesn't have the heart to really, so he has to figure this out on his own.

He hears more than sees the gates being pulled open as they approach; a loud, grinding sound that's sure to attract any Crawlers within hearing distance. Ever since Walkers came to rot, reduced to crawling their way to places, they've become more dangerous.

So easy to miss and very hard to spot on high grass.

He stops to talk to the South gatekeeper for the day, a guy a few years older than he is, after urging Glenn and the rest to go ahead without him. He's too tired to beat around the bush, so without bothering with pleasantries, he tells him what's expected for today's watch.

Crawler sweep especially on the grassy areas, double shift for everybody - everything else the usual. The guy doesn't ask any questions, just nods and volunteers to have someone tell the rest of the gatekeepers himself so Carl doesn't have to do so. 

He appreciates this greatly. "Thanks. I'll get a few hours of sleep, have someone find me if I'm not here by noon." And he heads home but no matter how tired he is, Carl can't seem to fucking sleep.

It doesn't matter though, because not even an hour later and someone's already knocking on his front door. 

"Sorry for waking you man, but we have a bit of a situation," it's Tyreese, nodding his head towards the direction of the Northern gate where he's currently in charge. 

He shakes his head and has already gone back inside after bidding the black man to follow, pulling his boots on and getting his Sheriff's hat and gun. "Couldn't sleep anyway, what's up? What're we dealin' with?"

There's a beat, and then- "People."

Carl pauses with a hand halfway inside his jacket sleeve, eyes narrowing. " _Actual_ people?" He clarifies, and Ty nods. "Yeah. Just two, did say there were more of 'em though. Wanted to talk, just approached the gates real casual, askin' to chat with whoever's leadin' us."

"Well shit," Carl mutters, throwing his jacket completely on as they hurry out of his house, already heading for the gates. "The Council already know?"

"Yeah, on their way to the townhall. Carl, wait, listen." Tyreese places a firm hand on his arm and boy stops walking. He turns around and only notices the slightly troubled look on the older man's face then. 

He swallows, suddenly uneasy. "What?"

Ty meets his gaze earnestly. "One of the two people there... is Beth." He pauses then, allows his words to sink in as the boy's jaw drops in surprise. " _Our_ Beth." 

He steps forward, eyes wide. "Alive?" He asks, voice embarrassingly shaky. 

"Yeah, alive."

And Carl is already running before he even realizes he's doing so, but not where they've kept the town's surprise guests. Instead, he's turned toward the East gate.

"Gotta head out!" he shouts by way of explanation, knowing he has confused Tyreese by running off, and heading for a different direction. "Tell Dad I went to get Daryl!"

He doesn't wait for a reply, just runs as fast as his feet can take him. Thinking of Daryl, thinking only of the fact that out of everyone, it's the redneck who should know. 

Beth. _Beth._

Alive, five years later. _What the fuck._

..

Her first reaction when she wakes up to something warm too damn near her naked form is to flinch away, and violently. The hand on her arm stopping her from reaching for her knife makes everything worse, has her snarling like an animal as she thrashes around in her attempts to get away.

Half awake and Beth thinks she's back with _them,_ back in that inescapable nightmare, all over again.

"Beth. _BETH_! It's me, it's all right!"

She vividly remembers how dark it was in that place and how at times, all her eyes can really see is her rapist's outline moving and grunting on top of her. It's exactly that way right now and, barely out of sleep, she can't stop the panic that builds into a frenzied crescendo inside her.

It makes her forget that she's not _there_ anymore, hasn't been for a long time.

There's a high pitched ringing in her ears, and what she can make out, the only thing she can, is a shadow before her that's trying to pin her down. It strengthens her resolve to get to her knife and she does, eventually.

She's been taught well.

Now armed, the ringing becomes louder, almost deafening, as she raises her weapon to slash wildly. She doesn't stop until she feels the warmth of and smells the blood coming from brutally sliced flesh like closure, telling her _it's done, it's dying if not yet dead..._

And it's the scent that pulls her out of her trance, roughly yanking her back to the present where she belongs. When her eyes refocus, adjusts to what little light there is, Beth finds she's breathing raggedly and staring at a naked Norm holding a hand to his chest.

A chest that is bleeding, making her blink in confusion and surprise.

The ringing fades, soon replaced by his voice that starts out soft, like from a radio that is just being turned up. Her gaze travels from his wounds to his face, his moving mouth that she can barely see in the dim light of dawn, and at first she can't understand, but ever so slowly his words start making sense, becomes more than just sound.

"It's all right, it's me. _It's just me._ " One of Norm's hands is raised in a pacifying manner, his quiet voice washing over every part of her, imparting a soothing, steady calm that she has momentarily forgotten. "It's me, it's all right Beth. It's all right."

She finds her own voice, and her throat feels raw, like she's been screaming. "Norm?" She asks, moving to close the distance between them. But she stops abruptly when he moves away, and it startles her for only a moment until she realizes what she's still holding up in the air, what caused him to do what he just did.

She lets go of the bloody knife on her hand, watching it fall soundlessly on the floor of their tent. 

With wide eyes, she looks at Norm again who's been pushed back to the edge of their temporary abode. "I -" she stops and chokes on the saliva that her body is using to soothe her throat, and has to swallow hard before she can continue. "Did I...?"

But Beth trails off; those are the only words she can manage at the moment, a string of them to form a stupid question because really, who else could have done _that?_

Norm lifts the hand he's using to staunch the flow of blood from his chest, showing her the damage she inflicted. Four gashes that overlap every which way, and a part of her feels sick at the gaping flesh; cuts that are not shallow, that will probably require stitches.

"Yeah," Norm's voice is a little strained. "Just let it happen when you wouldn't stop, figured you would when you smelled it." He stares until she looks at him before lifting his bloodied hand up and close to her face, just under her nose, slowly moving his fingers and causing liquid warmth to fall on her lap. 

She inhales - long and deep, and the coppery scent makes her head spin wildly. Her eyes are a vivid blue again, wild-looking at that instant just like when she's letting him fuck her. She can tell, because there's a burn in her eyes that are not tears. It's sight: seeing the world again in color, not for how lifeless it has become.

Norm's hand remains where it is as he continues. "You always stop when you get a whiff."

Beth closes her eyes tightly, pressing the bloody hand against her lips, to move on her cheek in a bloody smear. "Just say it Norm," she whispers, her other hand blindly reaching for his wounds. She opens her eyes at his hiss of pain when her cold palm replaces his, and they look at each other again. 

She taps her temple with a finger. "I'm sick in here." But Norm only shrugs as if this is the most normal thing, getting stabbed in the morning, before his lips are finding hers for a blood-laced kiss.

"Aren't we all." He murmurs, like some kind of twisted assurance where he's touching her with only his mouth, with only his hand that she purposely placed upon her cheek. 

But soon the simplicity of his mouth moving against hers is not enough, and she draws him close, needing to know that she's wanted, that he wants her, _despite it all._

Liplock deepening with his blood on their tongues, she imagines the kiss tastes like life, and if Beth has ever doubted it before (she never has), she knows now more than ever that the new world well... it has messed them up real good, and a little too close to beyond repair.

"Norm," she moans, breast pressing against his bloody chest. They're slicked with blood, with saliva, and it's the sickest in the head she's ever been, wanting to be fucked in this growing pool of crimson. 

His breathing has been reduced to panting for air, and Beth realizes they're a matched set of bizarre when she feels his hardness on her thigh, cock digging against her skin. 

He reaches for a shirt, hers, and presses it on his wounds to limit the blood before leaning in. "How do you want me?" He whispers, breath hot on her ear, and she shivers. "Helpless right? Putty in your hands..."

Norm's tongue is careful when it slips out from between his lips to lick the skin behind her ear. "I'm all yours to do what you will. Because I'm not _them_ ," He pulls away, and Beth's eyes are as fevered as his when their gazes meet.

A pair of sick fucks is what they are, she thinks, but at this point, she can't really do anything about that. 

Beth pushes him on his back, straddles him. They both know she needs to feel in control again, so he lets her do all the work. 

They're bloody and sweaty, and when she has him sheathed completely inside her, her hands find his covered wounds, presses her palms there hard, and she begins to move. 

"Oh _fuck_ ," Norm groans, and Beth revels in inflicting pleasure and pain as she rides him. His hands grip her waist as he thrusts his hips up to meet hers, and damn it if it's not driving him crazy.

He's close, she feels it; closer than she is, and that sense of power that she has over him is delicious, intoxicating. 

Beth leans forward, one hand still pressing on his wound while the other moves to support herself by gripping his shoulder. "Inside me, come inside me."

He groans at her words, a feral sound that travels from him to her, to where their bodies are joined, making her pussy clench around his cock. "Beth, are you-" 

She lifts her hips and brings herself down, and it's her answer to Norm's unfinished question. Yes, she's sure that he wants him undone buried in her as deep as he can go. 

Norm throws his head back and comes at the force of that, and she rides him for all it's worth, the sudden warmth of his seed between her legs, spurring her on. "Yes, yes! _Oh yes!_ " she gasps, following right after him.

And the world falls into dirty, obscene pieces.

In the aftermath, it's Beth who moves first. She takes care of Norm's wounds, and it's a painful process involving a needle. When his wound has closed, has been bandaged, they clean up as best they can from water on a nearby creek. 

But it's Norm who breaks the silence. "Let's go?" He asks, offering her his hand, eyes less bright but clearer as he turns to her and waits, like he's done since the beginning.

_So blue_. Beth remembers another pair of eyes on those irises and it makes her ache in every part of her that feels, because she's lied to him, hasn't she? 

_All the good people have turned into me or into you Daryl Dixon, and we're not good, not anymore._

She begins heading for main camp, away from their tent that's pitched a distance from their people's. She's too damaged, too hardened for hand holding, so she keeps her hands to herself. 

"Yeah, let's go." She says and walks past. And Norm, he follows.

He always does.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the (impossibly long) wait. Filler chapter here though, setting the stage for next chapter.

He has strange, lucid dreams here every year. They're usually about what has never been, set in the present but with everyone they've ever lost still alive. These dreams, they're extensions of the life they would have had in the prison, painful what-ifs had they not lost the place to the Governor or if some of their family had made it. 

He likes these dreams more than he can admit, reminds him that there can be good times in this cruel world where corpses don't want to stay dead, not without taking a few chunks out of the living.

But there are dreams that leave him staring up at the ceiling for hours after, mulling over what he shouldn't. They're not could-have-beens, and they are the worst in his opinion because they're about things that can _never_ be. 

_They're driving down an empty road in the country, a stretch of unclaimed grassland and green hills on their either side as far as the eyes can see. It's a nice day, just a few hours before sunset judging by the growing chill in the air, and if there are Walkers here, they don't exist at the moment._

_He turns his head to look at her where she's seated on the passenger side of his truck, head out of the window with her hair unbound and flying. Her eyes are closed and there's a big grin on her face. Reaching for her, he takes her hand and squeezes gently, prompting her to turn to him._

_"I missed ya girl," He says, glancing at the road briefly before looking her way again as her grin softens into a smile. "Been missin' ya for years. 'S unbearable sometimes."_

_She squeezes his hand back. "But I've been here all this time," she answers, her hand letting go of his as it travels to his face, fingers stroking his cheekbones. "I've been watchin' Daryl Dixon."_

_Suddenly the scene changes. They're not in the truck anymore but in a field of doghobbles and foamflowers, sitting across each other on a wide blanket and surrounded by high grass that hide them from the world. It's morning, and the sky is as blue as the shade of both their eyes._

_In the distance, he can see her Daddy's farm._

_"Where were ya girl?" He takes her hand again, laces their fingers together as she shrugs with an almost secretive smile, raising their joined hands to her lips._

_She kisses the back of his oh-so gently, it might have even happened at all. "Around. Just waitin'."_

_His brows furrow. "For what?" He asks, but just as she's answering, the sky darkens with rainclouds and the deep rumble of thunder drowns out her voice, makes it impossible to hear what she's saying._

_He can see her mouth opening and closing in speech, but the thunder is getting louder and louder, and it doesn't even look like she's noticed..._

It takes Daryl a few seconds to realize that the thunder in his dream is the sound of footsteps on hardwood floor, but as soon as he does, he is yanked out of sleep and is automatically reaching for his crossbow.

His dream falls apart as he shoots up from atop his sleeping bag, drawing and pointing his weapon at the doorway. The back of his hand is still tingling from an imagined kiss, but he doesn't think of his dream, not yet. 

Not when there's someone in the funeral home with him, someone who's not even trying to be quiet. They're moving around downstairs, and he can roughly tell where they're located just by the noise they're causing. 

And he's just deciding whether to wait for them to get to where he is or go out there to hunt the intruders down himself when-

"Daryl? Daryl, where are you?" He recognizes the voice immediately, and it makes his heart skip painfully inside his chest. Lowering his crossbow, he races out of the room with urgent steps, stomach churning in absolute fear because there can only be one reason why he would be here.

If Carl is looking for him, something's happened to the community and it can't be good, can it?

"In here Carl!"

He nearly collides with the boy in the hallway when he comes barelling out, his pulse going crazy underneath his skin as soon as they're face to face. " _What?_ What the hell's goin' o-" 

The words die in his throat when Carl suddenly hugs him, throwing all of his weight into a tight embrace that is completely unexpected, that nearly throws them backwards and on the floor. 

"You gotta come home! Let's go! 

Now!" The boy is jumping up and down, and he's frantic but not in a panicked, worried way. And although Daryl nearly dies in relief right then and there because it looks like nothing seems to be the matter, he's confused as hell.

He disentangles himself from Carl's arms, just a tad bit annoyed. "Jesus, stop jumpin' 'round kid an' tell me what the fuck's goin' on!" He demands and only notices then, as he steps back, that the boy is trembling with emotion.

"She found us Daryl," Carl's voice is slightly choked when he speaks, like he's trying not to burst into tears. "She's back, she found us!" 

He stares back with furrowed brows, not quite knowing who it is they're referring to. "What? Who?" And there's an answering twinkle in Carl's eyes that is more than just tears. 

" _Beth._ " The boy's tone says it ought to be obvious as he beams, swiping at his eyes in an attempt to not cry. "Beth found us Daryl, _she's alive_."

And Daryl's entire world feels like it has stopped spinning for just a moment as Carl's words sink in, and he finds it suddenly difficult to breathe, nearly impossible - until he sees her for himself that is.

He startles Carl when he suddenly turns him around, giving him a shove to urge him forward. "Move." He says, his limbs itching to run, fly, _get to her._

And Daryl runs as fast as he did the night he lost her, faster even, the thudding in his chest more than just exertion.

..

Beth's hand has not moved away from a spot on her left hip where her knife should be, even as she sits on her wooden chair with a relaxed posture and a bland expression. They haven't spoken a word since they sat down and locked in this room almost twenty minutes ago, and although her silence isn't anything new, Norm knows this is different.

He can see it in the sharpness of her blue eyes; she's wary, very. Despite her unreadable face, Beth is poised to lash out, ready to attack anyone who will get close. It had been a bad idea to take her weapons away, but whether she could keep them or not hadn't been his call to make. This is not their community after all, with its one simple rule regarding outsiders and their belongings: they get stripped off everything but their clothes.

Beth has prepared herself for this of course, but they had been thorough on their search, had been able to retrieve every knife she hid and brought with her.

When the quiet becomes too unbearable, Norm eeventually speaks. "We're fine," He says, glancing at her briefly before returning his gaze back towards the doorway. "It's just a precaution because they don't know who I am, so you know. It's not you, it's me."

She surprises him with a smirk as she looks his way, an eyebrow raised in amusement. Maybe she's distracting herself - or him, making them both believe she's fine. "If you're going to break up with me, at least be original about it Norm."

He realizes his statement and chuckles, but doesn't let the conversation get derailed. "Seriously though," He stretches a leg and nudges her foot with his, expression turning solemn as he waits for her to look at him again before continuing. "You can't go clawing at your own people just because they want to hug you."

Something in her gaze hardens as her lips fo a straight line. "They're not mine," she replies in a hiss, the hand that's seeking her absent knife clenching into a fist. "Haven't been for years." 

"Fine, sorry," He quickly apologizes, not wanting to provoke her. "But you know what I mean, about what you shouldn't do." 

She unclenches her hand with a petulant eyeroll in response, and it makes her look younger than how the world has made her appear. "Yes, I'll try not to gouge some eyes out," She tells him sarcastically, and he sighs. 

"I just don't want you to do anything you'll regret Beth. What if it was your sister?"

Her shoulders move in an attempt to shrug casually, although her entire body has become rigid. "I don't have one." She replies in a clipped tone, and when he opens his mouth to argue, she kicks at the leg of his chair, hard, making him shut up.

" _Don't_. One more word about her and I'll rip those stitches out." Beth is glaring at him now, eyes moving from his face to his shirt-covered chest where this morning's wounds are, throbbing painfully under makeshift bandages and her sharp regard. "I might even enjoy it Norm."

He only stares back at her calmly, knowing she's not kidding, before smiling a little and turning away. He sort of loves her in moments like these, when she's on fire with anger. "Would rip them out myself if you'd let me," He says in a low voice, tone matter-of-fact. "You just gotta say the word."

Beth doesn't say anything back at once, but when she does, her voice has softened. 

"Maybe I would have let you," she whispers, and he turns back to find her staring at the walls of the room they're in without really seeing it. "If we'd met before the night you found me." And Norm shakes his head, is about to say that no, he doesn't think so because she would have been with _him_ still, but he isn't given a chance.

Because the door is suddenly being unlocked, its sound loud in contrast to their hushed voices, and Norm straightens on his chair as he sees her get that wary gleam in her eyes back.

"Beth." He hisses in warning as the doorknob turns, but her attention is for whoever's about to step in just like him, although he's aware of her as much.

The door opens then, is in fact pushed so that it hits the wall with a bang, and then a little girl skips in, hugging a book to her chest as she stares at them - _her_ \- with wide eyes. 

"Are you Bethie?" The girl's blue eyes are curious and amazed at the same time, standing almost on her toes and leaning forward to gape without having to move any closer. Norm glances at Beth, sees the recognition in her eyes as she stares back at the child before them. He has a vague idea who she might be, too. 

"I was," she replies, her voice tight as if she's struggling to speak. "But it's just Beth now."

And suddenly, as if all they've been waiting is to hear her voice, there are people outside the doorway all murmuring in excited voices and trying to rush in. One of them stands out though, has Beth and Norm reacting in an instant but for two very different reasons. 

"Bethie!" 

She's quick, but he's quicker - that, or he has just been anticipating her reaction right from the start. At the sound of her name being called, Beth flies out of her seat and away from a dark haired woman who's rushed in, with Norm on his feet at almost the exact same time and standing on the space between them. 

"Woah there, _easy_."

Their sudden movements and strange reaction have caused everyone else to tense up, and a confused silence fills the room. The little girl is now just an eye peeking out from in between somebody's legs, but Norm only notices in passing, his gaze firmly settling on the brunette in front of him where she's stopped, smile turning into a confused frown.

"Maggie, right?" He asks, and she nods slightly, the arms she'd been meaning to use falling on her sides as she outwardly deflates from her excitement. He glances behind him when he sees her eyes dart over his shoulder, finds that Beth has her teeth bared at her like an animal.

He remembers her earlier comment of gouging eyes out and inwardly cringes, but knows it won't happen, not while he's in the room. "Sorry but I wouldn't approach her just yet if I were you." 

An Asian guy steps in at his words, looking him over angrily as he stares back calmly. "Why the hell not?" he asks, but before Norm can answer, a man with dark curls joins them, speaks up as he puts himself in the middle of them all.

"All right, how about we all calm down and take a seat?" He asks them, although he's looking at Norm specifically. "The name's Rick, but I'm guessing you already know that." The ex-Sheriff offers him a hand that he takes, if to avoid any more tension.

"Norm." He replies, glancing at Beth again who hasn't taken her eyes off Maggie. He sighs and looks back at Rick, smirking wryly. "And yeah, we're gonna need to sit down for this shit Rick."

..

Outside the walls in the same tree Norm and Beth had been in the day before, two boys sit on a branch munching on apples, watching the activity by the gates closely with a pair of binoculars.


	5. Chapter 5

They remember seeing her like this only once before, almost three years ago. Pacing restlessly like a madwoman, muttering to herself over and over as if arguing with somebody only she can see. The last time she'd been this fretful was because of the same community they had just come from. That had been a really bad time looking back, and they wonder, at the state she's currently in, is this too? 

"Boys,"

They turn at nearly the exact same time, hearing a voice coming from inside the tent behind them. A few seconds later and Norm peeks out, glancing past them only briefly before looking back and giving them a smile. 

"Stop staring at your Mama Beth and join me in here for a bit." He tells them, inclining his head invitingly. "Girl doesn't need an audience while she's thinking aloud." They hesitate, but he calls out to them again as soon as he disappears within their temporary shelter for the evening. 

"Come on," It's no longer a request and they know it, the gentle voice firmer than it had been initially. "With me inside the tent."

Reluctantly, they stand up from their worn out folding chairs and with one last lingering look at the young woman who they considered as the closest thing to a mother they will ever have in this world, eleven-year-old twins Ben and Billy enter the tent where Norm is waiting.

The question is out of Billy's mouth in a half whisper as soon as they're seated on the floor across him, looking at the man who has posed as their father over the last few years. "Is Mama Beth okay?" 

Beside him, Ben speaks too, wearing the same pinched and worried expression as his brother. "Cause she's talking to herself again," He says, big brown eyes swimming with concern. "She hasn't done that in a long time."

Norm had been redoing the laces on one of his boots when they entered, stopping to answer them only once he's done. He looks up and notes their looks of distress, smiles in both amusement and affection. Worried about their Mama Beth, just as he's guessed. It would explain the hovering they've been doing, always near her and never letting the girl out of their sight. 

He nods firmly and reaches out to pat Billy's knee in a comforting manner. "She's gonna be." He replies, returning to his task by picking up his other boot. "And I know what you guys are thinking, but this isn't like the last time. She'll be fine."

Billy sighs in response, sounding very unconvinced, although it's Ben who asks the follow up question. "But how do you know, Papa Norm?" And he doesn't even look up at them this time, busy with getting his laces done right, although what he's really doing is trying to appear casual, unbothered. 

They don't need to know he's worried too. 

"Hey, you weren't there with me after we talked to her old friends." He glances up at them and winks, a little relieved at the tentative smiles he gets in return. "I was, so I know."

The twins share a look and must have come to an understanding without words, because they drop the subject and move on to another instead. "How did it go?" Billy asks, visibly relaxing now. 

Norm finds himself grinning, lifting a hand up and gesturing at the tent exit. "How'd you think?" He asks back with a smirk, one that is quickly mirrored by the boys. "She's huffing and puffing out there and talking to herself. Of course it didn't go well."

Ben giggles at his words, muffling the sound of his laughter behind his hand. "She huffs and puffs about _everything,_ " The boy declares with a roll of his eyes, and his twin nods in agreement, giggling too.

"Quit playin' with your dinner Billy, stop squirmin' and go to sleep Ben, don't cuss in front of the boys Norm," Billy mimics, using a high-pitched voice and an exaggerated twang that has Norm's control over his laughter snapping. 

He and the boys giggle at Beth like school girls, mouths behind their hands as they try to keep the conversation and laughter only among the three of them. Although it's a little too late to be worried about that when someone taps on the side of the tent, startling them all.

"So," The three of them stop immediately at the sound of her voice from outside, somewhere to the left, freezing almost comically from their shoulder-shaking mini guffaws. "I huff and puff at everythin', huh?"

Three voices reply to her, overlapping one another.

"Not everythi-"

"It's not really huffing an-"

"It was just a jok-"

Their voices are drowned out by the distinct sound of repeated kicking, and for a moment they stop talking, just listening in confusion. And then - 

_"Shit!"_

Norm reflexively throws himself over Ben and Billy as they exclaim this all at the same, covering them with his body as the tent collapses. But that's all that happens, and they realize Beth has not thrown anything, just kicked down the poles holding the thing upright. And she's the one laughing at them from the outside now, but it's choked, like she's crying too. 

"Ya'll are in double duty for watches tonight because you said a bad word," She tells them with sniff, followed by a strangled hiccup. "And also for the rest of the month because you were talking about me behind my back!"

They all groan in unison but she doesn't take her words back, and none of them have the heart to protest without risking getting an additional month. But really, Norm doesn't say anything because he knows she's crying.

When he and the twins finally crawl out of the dismantled tent with much difficulty, Beth has already composed herself. The only proof she's cried is the red of her eyes, but she's dried them. 

They're still shining with emotion though, flashing with conflict like she's torn about something. Norm thinks he knows exactly what she's thinking, but he pretends he doesn't understand the uncertainty in her gaze as he sends the boys to gather firewood, bit only after they've hugged the hell out of their Mama Beth.

"Are you okay?" He walks over and reaches out to take her elbow gently, pull her into a hug maybe because she allowed the boys to embrace her so she might let him too. But she steps back, shakes her head. 

Norm feels his stomach bottoming out, the way it does when your riding a rollercoaster and it suddenly plummets downward from a really great height. 

"I can't leave you," She says, her voice soft but harsh, making the words seem an accusation instead of a confession. He hears the unspoken part of her sentence as she refers to him, to them, to her boys. 

To their little community.

 _I want to leave you but..._ He closes the distance between them again, and this time she lets him, lets him wrap her in his arms, arms that aren't quite sure whether it wants to let her go or not. "I just can't."

Norm doesn't answer.

..

_Everyone else has been asked to leave the room. With the exception of Daryl and Hershel, the Council members are all who remain with them, sitting on the other side of a wooden table. It's like a panel interview with Sasha on the far left, Carol beside her, then Rick, and finally, Glenn._

_Everyone is confused why Beth wants to talk to only the Council during what is supposed to be a reunion, so as soon as Maggie reluctantly closes the door behind her, Glenn gives voice to what everyone is thinking._

_"Beth, what's going on? Can't this wait?" He laughs a little, looking at everyone else as if to check if he's not the only one who thinks this is weird. "I mean, we just got you back, aren't we supposed to be celebrating or something?"_

_The girl before them folds her hands in front of her in an almost business-like fashion, her eyes assessing each of them. And then, when her gaze lands on Glenn, she smiles, but there's a hint of mockery in it that puzzles everybody even more._

_"No, it can't wait. It's the only reason why we're here." She says, pushing her long white-blonde hair away from one shoulder before continuing and not breaking away from his gaze. "You can't expand."_

_Her demand (because it's what it is, what it sounds like) is simple but unexpected, not exactly one they would guess a girl whom they thought dead for the last five years would say to her people as an opening remark._

_"How in the world did you..." Sasha starts with her eyes narrowed to slits, but Beth cuts her off. "Not important," she waves a hand as if in dismissal, pointing at the general direction of the river. "You can't expand, not there."_

_Norm, arms crossed over his chest beside her, nods at that and picks up where she left off. "That there is too close to our land."_

_Carol straightens, one brow raised as she glances at him, then back at Beth. "_ Your _land?" She asks, putting emphasis on how they've declared ownership with just a single word._

_"Our community," Norm clarifies, one hand gesturing at himself and Beth. "That's our forest."_

_Glenn moves, causing his chair to scrape the floor noisily as he speaks. "We've been here a long time and we've never seen people in the woods. Daryl would have known, he hunts there all the time!"_

_Beth only shrugs. "That's because we don't let you. Our community's two years older than yours, we know how to stay hidden in there. We know the place by heart, it's home."_

_"Wait, two years?" Glenn parrots, eyes going wide. "So how long have you been around, five?" Norm shrugs too, sinking on his chair deeper, a little more comfortably. "More or less, yeah. Definitely longer than you guys have been."_

_"If that's the case," Everyone turns to Rick who has been silent until now, to find him looking at Beth alone, and intently. "How long have_ you _known it was us?" He asks her directly, pointing at himself and the rest of the Council._

_The answer takes a while, but it comes. "From the start."_

"What?" _Sasha straightens on her seat and stares at her in disbelief. "You knew it was us all this time and had your sister believe you were dead anyway?" she demands angrily. "What is wrong with you?"_

_Beth's eyes are sharp and vicious when she meets Sasha's glare evenly. "She assumed I was dead," She spats, sounding so unlike herself, the way everyone knew her at the prison, that Sasha recoils in surprise. "I'm sure you all did too right?"_

_"But she-"_

_She doesn't let Sasha speak any further. "I saw them, the bloody messages she left on the tracks," Beth's eyes find his brother-in-law's face then, sees it change from confusion to realization. "_ Glenn. Go to Terminus. Maggie. _Saw them all."_

_Glenn sighs and rubs a hand over his face. "Look Beth-"_

_"It's not like anyone looked," Beth's voice is offhand and casual, stating a fact even though her words could have been easily mistaken as bitter should she have used the right tone of voice._

_Surprisingly though, it's not; there is no anger in it, as if she's unfeelingly reciting a piece that she has come to memorize. "Probably the last person you'd expect to survive out there so no one bothered looking, but I get it. It doesn't matter though, hasn't mattered in a long time." She smiles again, slightly-mocking undertone and all that. "Ya'll have been doing pretty fine without me, haven't you?"_

_When Rick asks his question, it is unnecessary because everyone in that room, in that moment, they just_ know. _"And you would know that how?"_

_Beth turns to Rick and his sharp blue gaze. "But of course," she begins, a certain twinkle in her eyes that is a kind of dark just because she knows something they don't. "How do you think?"_

_Norm feeds the tension further with his subdued voice. "We've got something to protect Rick," He adds simply, like it should justify what they're doing, or at least what he's_ implying _they're doing._

 _Carol looks livid, glaring at Beth and completely ignoring what her companion has just said - although it's the fuel to the woman's anger. "But we're_ your people too!" She says, voice higher than usual with emotion. 

_She doesn't shake her head no, but her reply does it for her. "They're my people now Carol. And I don't want any of you or yours near them."_

_Rick leans forward, fist clenched on the table in front of him as he gazes at her almost imploringly. "But you know us Beth. We wouldn't do anything to hurt you, or them."_

_She ignores his statement completely, jumps over it by pointing out something else that is but not quite related to what he just said. "You're a big group now. Accepted others to join your community. What about them?"_

_Glenn finally speaks after a while of just listening in disbelief, more than just shocked that this is Beth now. "_ What _about them?" He asks back, like a challenge. "You're the one who's been spying, so tell us."_

_She shrugs her shoulders again. "You can't ever know what others are capable of doing," She says it like she's talking to herself, and for a minute she gets this far away look in her eyes. "Not until they've done it."_

_"So because you want us to," Sasha snaps, looking from her to Norm as she speaks to let them know she's talking to both of them. "We shouldn't expand?"_

_The answer is quick and painless. "Yes."_

_Sasha scoffs and opens her mouth, but Glenn beats her to asking the question that is on everyone's mind. "Or what?" He asks, voice nearly a whisper, but the challenge in his voice is gone. There is only a tremor to it, a fear to know what her answer is going to be._

_"What are you going to do?"_

_She's dead serious when she looks at him with her reply, and something in her expression makes all of them believe her._

_"Anything." Her eyes are a bright and fiery blue, utterly unshakable in that moment. "To protect what's mine."_

_She stands up then, and Norm follows, her closing words sitting heavy in the air. And there's nothing else left to say because she has made herself clear. Anything, after all, has so broad a scope that it has to mean absolutely_ everything.

 _When she doesn't say anything else, Norm steps forward to take over. "That's all we came here for, actually," He says in a tone that makes it seem as if he's concluding a friendly visit. "We'll stay out of your way like we've always done, as long as you stay out of ours."_

 _ _ _Only Rick and Glenn stand up to lead the two outside, knowing this conversation is done (for now at least). Sasha is seething, but Carol's temper has been reigned, watching them leave.___

 _

_Watching Norm as he puts himself between Beth and the other men._

_

_"You can come back," They've all been mostly silent as weapons are returned just near the door that leads out of the townhall, but Rick can't not say nothing. "Bring your people here, stay with us."_

_Beth smiles at him, and it's an amused, knowing smile as if she's been expecting the offer. "My people need me Rick, and I've promised to keep them safe." She tucks a knife on her left hip, her hand resting on the handle almost gently, lovingly. "I'm never coming back."_

_Glenn approaches her, his expression practically begging. "At least talk to Maggie before you go-"_

"No." _Her reply is cutting and harsh, a firm shake of her head paired with a hard look telling them she means it, what she said. "I don't want to see her either."_

_She and Norm start for the door, Glenn right behind them and still talking. "Beth, come on, she's your sister-" He's cut off once more, this time by the door opening suddenly just as they've reached it. And Beth who's leading the procession, who's been wanting to avoid this right here, she stops and stares._

_They lock gazes and she forgets, for a second, how to breathe._

_Because standing before her after five long years, staring back and holding Judith in his arms, is Daryl Dixon._


	6. Chapter 6

Daryl stares at empty space and listens intently to the soothing quality that Rick has in that calm voice of his, the only thing that's stopping him from flying into an unthinking fit of rage. He has no right to be angry in the first place, but he is. Though it's mostly at himself as Rick's words find their way from his ears straight to his chest - tearing and shredding the beating thing beneath with every damned syllable.

"It was like a meeting," Rick is not looking at him but at Carl from their place in the dining area, the boy lying on the two-seater couch in the living room, fast asleep. He shakes his head.

"Instead of the reunion we were all so sure it would be, it was just a sort of business meeting."

 _To say that time stopped for him is terribly inaccurate to describe the phenomenon that is seeing her again, alive and well and_ in the flesh, _after all the years he spent believing she's been reduced to nothing but just a precious little memory he carries around inside his head. It isn't just the ticking of the clock that went on a standstill he thinks, the moment she got framed by the townhall's open doorway. Daryl feels like even the pounding of his heart, the flow of blood in his veins, they ceased too, his entire body shutting down and giving way to a much more important thing._

Her.

_And it isn't just air that is sucked out of his lungs at the sight of this semi-stranger who's staring back at him, eyes not as bright or hopeful as they once were, the way he remembers them. And he's not sure how he knows this, but he does: there's a gleam in her eyes when they meet his that can only be described as fear._

_It disappears when he finally opens his mouth to speak._

_"Beth."_

_He breathes it out then in, her name, and then finds himself saying it again and more firmly, as if just re-learning the vowels and consonants that make it up. And the second time he forms the letters together with his lips, he allows all of his emotions to bleed through but only because he has to._

_It's that or a heart attack, with how tight his chest has become._

_"Beth..."_

There is a pause as Rick runs a hand through his dark, wavy hair with a sigh. 

"The way she was looking at us, it was like we were strangers. And she's known we've been here all this time but..." Daryl looks up at the same time the ex-Deputy regards him, and his next words make him feel like there's a stake being driven into his chest.

Rick looks him in the eye, honest like they agreed he would be no matter if what he finds out leaves him a wreck. "But she was so convinced not one of us bothered to look for her, she felt like it didn't matter that we didn't know she was still alive." 

And although there isn't anything left in the bloody spot where his heart should have been, it feels like something still is because of the ache there that increases tenfold.

_Her eyes soften just the slightest and she doesn't smile when she answers, but those blue orbs does the smiling for her, shaded just the right amount of fond and sad, as if looking at him reminds her of something she regrets. But his heart expands from the shriveled up thing it has become in the five years he thought he lost her when she says his name, and he shouldn't have, but he does anyway: files away that gleam in her eyes for analyzing later._

_It is only after some time, when he's not angry anymore and has had enough time to think, that he realizes what her eyes had been saying to him then._

_"Daryl."_

_His inhale is sharp and piercing, like waking up to a lungful of oxygen after nearly drowning because her voice; it's real and not just a copy of the ones he plays on rewind when he can, within the confines of his mind._

_And as if Beth's utterance of Daryl's name is all she's been waiting for, Judith tightens the arms she has around him and asks a question in a stage whisper. And everyone hears her but it's okay, because he wouldn't have known what to say, would have merely fallen on his knees if he didn't have Li'l Asskicker in his arms, hoping Beth will understand that the action is a silent plea for her forgiveness._

"I looked for 'er." It takes some time because it's hard for him, but Daryl eventually speaks, his voice gruffer than usual. He has to swallow hard before he can continue, hiding his eyes behind his hair where it's safe from Rick's knowing gaze. 

And he has so much to say, but he's never been good at talking. So he just clenches his fists where they've been on either side of his lap, stands up so suddenly that he startles the man in front of him.

"But I guess it don't matter none." He mutters, before picking his crossbow up from the floor and heading for the door. And he does the one thing he has always been good at doing. 

He walks away.

_"So it's really her Darly?" The girl is looking from him to her, and he manages not to blush at her next words (or at least he thinks so). "The Bethie in the stories you tell me 'fore I sleep?"_

_He watches as her gaze turns to Judith, and he looks at the five-year-old in his arms as well, finds she has a hand hovering over her mouth as she turns to him with wide eyes._

_And she's still stage-whispering. "Oh no, am sorry Darly! You said not to tell!" Daryl would have laughed or blushed further, but then she steps forward in interest, her lips curling into a slight smile, curious, and his entire body stops responding properly to anything._

_"Stories?" Beth tilts her head to the side, glancing at him briefly before turning back to Judith. "What stories has he been telling you?"_

"Brother, wait."

Rick catches up to him just before he flies down the porch steps, a hand coming up to grasp his arm. To make him pause, as a comforting gesture, which one Daryl isn't sure. But it's unwelcome, what he's doing, and he doesn't want it.

Not now. 

When his body goes rigid, Rick is smart enough to pull his hand away quickly and with a tired sigh. The floorboards creak under booted feet as the screen door behind Daryl swings open with a squeak. 

"Be careful," Rick has gone back inside, his voice far off as the door closes with a dulled crash between them. "I'll leave Carl in charge while you're gone." 

_"Did you really burn a house?"_

_"Yes."_

_"And he teached you how to use his crossbow?"_

_Daryl rolls his eyes from his spot at the end of the monkey bars where he's been leaning with his arms crossed, watching Judith and Beth talk and sway on their separate swings. "Taught. Not teached." He corrects automatically before Beth can reply, but Judith ignores him._

_"And to track?"_

_The smile on Beth's lips has not grown and is still as slight as it was before. "Yes, he taught me." She says with a nod of her head, still not looking at him since they came here five minutes ago._

_And all while he's been staring at her, watching how much has changed about her in just the five years they've been apart._

His feet take him back to the funeral home, hungry and sweaty and no longer angry after the walking he's done. When he steps into the main room and closes the door behind him, he just stands there and stares at what is in front of him, remembering. 

And his anger turns into something else, something closer to despair, and he's not sure what he wants to do but it isn't this. He doesn't want to recall the time they spent here, wants to forget it if he can.

But it's all he has, all he's ever had in years that's beautiful, and he can't forget. Not with a minute, or a day, or the rest of his miserable life to try and do so.

_Her hair is the most obvious thing that changed because it has grown out, untied and falling down her shoulders in waves, almost to her waist. She's slightly taller too, and no longer as skinny as she'd been, filled out in places that were skin and bones once before. The realization comes to him unnecessarily, that she's no longer a girl._

_Beth has become a woman without them, without him, and Daryl wonders with a pang how much of her life they've missed._

_The interrogation continues as he watches them, the creaking of their slighty rusty swings loud in the empty community park he and the rest of the men built for the kids._

_"And he gave you a piggyback?"_

_"He did."_

_"And you like singin'?"_

_There is a long pause at this specific question, before Beth is shrugging her shoulders. "I used to." And Judith's brows furrow in confusion at her answer. So does his._

He climbs the stairs and goes to their room, stopping by the doorway and hearing her song as he pictures how she was her quite clearly that night, even with his eyes open.

And he's still aching, heavily and brutally, inside his chest and at the back of his eyeballs and deep in the pit of his stomach, as he sinks down on the floor, back pressed against the wall, looking at her piano and wishing he's anywhere but here. 

In this moment. In this place.

But this too, is all he has left, so he hugs his pain to his chest along with his knees, endures the pain, and knows this is like being back in that intersection where he lost her.

And with no idea where to go from _here._

_"You don't like it anymore?" The little girl asks with a troubled frown, and Daryl can't help but notice Beth get back that sad, fond look her eyes had earlier. "I'm just too busy to be singin' now, that's all."_

_Judith just nods at her answer before going back to her questions. "Oh. Ummm... and you taked care of me when I was a baby?" The correcting, as usual, comes automatically, but Daryl is surprised that he doesn't do it by himself this time._

_"Took." Beth says with him, and she finally looks at him, really looks, and Daryl forgets how to think when her eyes and his meet in a clash of blue. And he feels like he's in that candlelit kitchen again, peanut butter, jelly and pig's feet containers on the table between them._

_She looks away first, turning back to Judith who's giggling at them both because they spoke at the same time. "It's took, not taked." Beth tells her, and the girl repeats the word twice before looking up at her as she continues. "And yes, I took care of you. Everyone did."_

_Judith shakes her head. "But Darly said you were like my Mama." She says, turning to him as if seeking support. "Right?"_

_"Judy!" Carl appears by the playground gates, hands on his hips as he glares slightly at his sister. "Dad's looking for you, leave them alone to talk!"_

He goes through the motions of living and surviving in a blank state, only eating and drinking when he has to. Sometimes it's dark out, and cold. Often, the sun is unbearably hot and the brightness hurts him not just because he's spent so long indoors, but also because it reminds him of her. 

The rest of the time he has, he spends it from room to room, replaying scenes both while awake and when asleep, ones that he has looked at from all angles over the years. Going back to his favorite parts, hoping to get some warmth from them the way he was able to before they found out she was still alive. 

He doesn't get any.

_They watch brother and sister walk out of the playground, the little girl turning to them with a wave before skipping towards Rick in the distance, standing with a hand on his hip and Beth's companion beside him._

_Norm, if he remembers correctly. He turns and sees she's still on her swing, gaze on Judith's retreating form, and he uncrosses his arms and opens his mouth to ask who he is, how she's still alive and where she's been, and why she's looking at him as if she's just reliving a memory, but something else comes out of his mouth._

_"I missed ya girl."_

_She stops swinging as she digests his words, and answers without looking at him. "You shouldn't." She replies in a soft voice, but he just shrugs. "Not anymore now that we got ya back, I guess."_

_She shakes her head again, and this time she looks him in the eye and turns his insides into ice with her words. "But I'm not stayin'."_

Daryl only comes back from his haze when someone visits him in the funeral home, speaking in a quiet voice that pulls him out, ever so slowly, from the painful silence of his own head.

"Hey." He turns beside him on the piano bench and finds gray-haired Carol smiling softly at him, her hand finding his and squeezing gently, comfortingly. "We were gettin' worried about you."

He grunts and takes his hand away from hers, doing the same with his gaze which falls on the ivory keys of the instrument before him. 

"M'fine. Haven't been gone that long."

_Daryl's voice is low and weak, disbelieving, staring at Beth as she stands up to close the distance between them. "Wh-why not?" He asks, his voice hoarse and trembling._

_She lifts a hand up and runs it on his hair, petting him tenderly like a dog._ Soothing him _, like she did once before, in the blanket of darkness against a funeral home's nondescript wall._

_"Because I can't remind you of the things that I don't believe in anymore Daryl, the only thing that I was ever good for." Her fingers card over the strands atop his head almost lovingly. "I'm useless to you now."_

_And then she's walking past him without another word, out the playground gates, leaving him bereft of the feel of her fingers on his scalp as he wonders, in fear, what her words can mean._

_Her faith. Good people. Those things that matter. Everything beautiful. Did she not believe in them any longer?_

_"Beth." She stops at the sound of her name, but without facing him. And the silence drags on because he doesn't know what to say, but she does. She always knows._

_"It doesn't matter but you should know," She tilts her head to the side so he gets a profile of her face, and there's a ghost of a smile on her lips. "I think I was the one who missed you so bad."_

A troubled look passes over Carol's face at his muttered reply. "Daryl," She says, and she's squeezing his arm this time, the worry lines on her face more pronounced than ever. "You've been gone for a whole week."

And although the news is surprising because he didn't even realize he's been in a stupor for seven days, Daryl can't find it in himself to care. 

_"It matters." He whispers to her retreating back, but she's already too far away to hear._

..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter came out rather vague. I rewrote it several times but it always came out the same. So I guess this is how it wants to be written, hopefully it's not too confusing. And yay for the premiere!


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